Tag Archives: Old Grey^^

he got glowing reviews in the “Daily Beast”

“We call him Torch but I believe his first name is Glenn. I try to stay a certain distance from the fellow understandably, me being both Snowy and Frosty at once.” He looks over. “Still not talking to me, Old Grey?” He turns back, sighs. “This NWES Island, Old Grey. I don’t think we can ever leave now. Collagesity has been fully assimilated.” He pries his eyes off the hypnotic dancing fireman again, looks at his watch. “Speaking of the City I think I’ll take a walk; getting a little hot in here. Cool off, you know.” He was thinking of a certain seat in town shaded green and blue formerly across the street from a fire station. Just south and east of Diamondfyre, but not far enough to forget how to come home to mother.

—–

“I was born there, in that dresser,” spoke Snowmanster to no one now, not even one who doesn’t listen, doesn’t know. “I became someone that day, way back in photo-novel 3. You were there, Old Grey. Even at the beginning. We talked of, well, we discussed a lot of stuff while walking to Purden and meeting Core-Alena for the first time. You weren’t impressed. I recall you mimicking me through a ‘Star Wars’ character. But now you’re paying the price.” He looks over at Old Grey that isn’t there but he pretends she is anyway, cane still in hand. He notices the ill fitting wig again, the cracked grey skin. Old. Dead, even. Death itself. She was beginning to smell.

Wee person Aloha climbed out of the picture before him and introduced herself by saying goodbye, pheh. Green lantern carrying Fern will have to do.


“Hellooo.”

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00220507

“I had to move. The houses and structures kept closing in. Soon *I* would become a house, a structure. Time to go on. I searched for a sim, a place for center. Nothing would be as perfect as Purden, the 128 128 128. I had moved before, returned. I knew what it took to be Mobile and the consequences suffered or endured because of it. I changed. Out of the ground and into the air and all was different. I could be either male or female since I was both. I had to retain some green in my form but that was about all. I could even be a car. Right Alena?”

“Right Core,” he spoke out the side of his-her mouth to the other being inside the tree.

“Good thing we both can breath underwater,” returned female Alena from the other side.

“That’s just what I said when I showed up here in Iris!” offered listening Snowmanster, still present at the psychic talking tree in the exact center of The Shallows. 128 128 again, but without the third 128 this time. Not perfection. But it seems to do for the moment.

Floating Old Grey in her bubble piped up for the first time during the visit. “I was killed. Murdered. By…”

“Now now, Old Grey. Don’t try to think too hard. You’re freshly dead after all.” Snowmanster stood back and looked at her, snowy hands on frosty hips in a studying gesture. Core-Alena as one was scrutinizing her as well. She floated, she bobbed and weaved seemingly at random but basically in the same spot.

“Oily way,” the tree being(s) said after an interval. “That’s the phrase I was thinking about back there.”

Time to ponder Gong again and the Flying Teepot.

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zzz www

Later they all ate sushi with oversized toothpicks at Black Diamond’s. Big Wanda with “deflated horns”, as I’ve called her floppy pigtails, was in charge, Spore’s plan in action. Master judo samurai Black Diamond (background) gave Little Oakley Annie the honorable name Green River during a pre-meal tea ceremony and her mama the name Kummer, which was short (he explained) for, “coming mother”. Or so that’s what they thought he meant. We were working with places in Washington again, switched from Illinois switched from Mississippi. Faulkner had no hold here, the Rule of the 100 and the way of fame and fortune conveniently forgotten. Zzz was not about Faulkner, nope. This was the mother, this was the father, but not the son, the fruity one.

Big Wanda spoke. “Little Annie Oakley, *sorry*, Green River, has fallen asleep again, cutting zzz’s instead of being in the moment. Too much fighting in life will do that, drain you of the oh-so-precious life force because you have done so with others.” She turns. “But you’re holding up well, Old Grey. How’s that floating device going?”

“Pretty good,” Old Grey admitted, knowing indeed what is holding her up and propelling her forward. Snowmanster and she will be at the tree again soon. In fact: they’re there.

“Interesting,” Core-Alena says to begin in his-her feminine/masculine voice and staring toward Old Grey’s way.

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zzz aaa

“Now. Isn’t that a lot better than that nasty old gun, eh? Corona-V. Won’t let you down, hehe. 9 out of 10 pirates — *recommend*.”

“Who *are* you?” she said to the tiny green creature on the pool’s edge beside her with the projecting, announcer-like voice. She was getting use to honing in on the frequency, like a small radio that blends into background noise at first.

“Why I’m a *friend*, a guiding spirit if you will, yes.” Spore rubs his miniature hands together in diabolic glee. Plan Z was working perfectly. Except he’s decided to trim the name down to Pan-Z to separate it from that other guy with a plan about the canal that didn’t work so well. NWES City remains in pieces. “Now just rellaaxx and forget *all* about that awful black swamp, eh? Settle back. You remain a star, don’t worry. I’ll be back shortly.” He patters off, still rubbing his hands and snickering underneath his breath. Oakley Annie floats and sips for a while, thinking of the past.

“You use to be *my* friend,” Big Wanda with new doo spoke, sitting up for emphasis.

“Well things change, what can I say.” She looked over. “What happened to your horns, the thing that gave away your sign?”

“Aww, got tired of them.” She patted her hornless head, indicating her pigtailed hair she replaced them with; kind of floppy horns if you will; deflated almost. “Looked much better on the other version of Elberta I have,” she opined about it, “the one that was going to marry–”

“Don’t tell me,” Oakley Annie beams with new psychic insight because of the brew; in the dark no more. “Toothpick.” She cackles. “*That’s* what Spore was going on about with the guy with the failed plan, ha.”

“You’re not the only one who’s dead here, Oakley Annie. I am too.”

“I know.” She almost reaches back into the box to produce a beer for Big Wanda but then remembers this is all imaginary; in her head. Big Wanda was not dead, not yet. She hasn’t tasted cool happiness at the end of a long, dusty trail.

Another sip (*ahhhh*). Spore says she can stay in his land for as long as she wants, and she has nowhere to go. Could be a while (*sip*).”Who can I speak to next? Who will fill that vacant hole of a zero doughnut this time?”

She trembles despite the good vibrations. “Mom?”

Truly dead this time.

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zzz again

He finally figured out how to remove the giant acorn of a head. He was relieved to find his own head still within, or perhaps it just grew there, like a seed in a pod, ready to hatch forth at the right moment. He pulled and pulled and pulled and finally it was there. Fully formed, seemingly. But the bikini top and especially bottom with attached tail remained. That was part of the new body apparently, part of the assimilation. 2 Sandy’s in one now. One Piece Sandy again. He had (seemingly?) woken up, but not in a good way.

And to top it all off now,  he had big hands, like the greeter at the door of Bar FF. Odd name; he couldn’t think of what the initials could stand for. Probably something Japanese related, he realized. He couldn’t see the writing on the wall while staring down at monstrous appendages.

Sandy wasn’t alone at the bar. “I believe you know my father,” the 1/2 snow 1/2 sponge being spoke over.

—–

Snowbob’s *mother* Snowmanster exits the closet again, looks around. “Well *this* is different. Underwater, eh. And apparently I can breathe underwater, lucky me. Now to find Old Grey once… oh. There you are!”

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lighten up 02

“Let’s go with *this* picture instead, Hindsight, er, Golden.”

“Yes, call me Golden. For now.”

“O-*kay*, Golden (*tee hee*).”

“More light, I agree.” Hindsight/Golden knew the squeaky voiced sponge being was always right. He was worshiped in many galaxies.

Those who didn’t worship him were often left in the dark. Pitchfork territory.

He has a son. I’ll deal with him next. Hindsight/Golden turns here toward the CB Dylan dresser. “And the wife.”

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directions

Those weirdos again, Philip Strevor thinks in a dream. Southwest corner table.

A knock at the office door, then. Small but firm. “Daddy?”

Man, school’s out already?

—–

Well at least she was a quiet kid, Philip Strevor consoles himself. Always reading that darn blue book, though. When he asks what it’s about, she just says, “stars,” sometimes, “stars and space.” But never just “space”, oddly. “Stars… and space.”

“Honey, why don’t you play with your new friend Anorexia out back in the alley. Get away from that book for a while.”

“Spica,” she then uttered, still reading. “Did you know that Spica is such a close binary star that each component is egg shaped due to the gravity pull, and cannot be resolved even with the most powerful telescope?”

“No I didn’t know that.” No more oddball star facts from you, missy, he then thought. He had to get these accounting numbers to Casey One Hole by tomorrow morning. And Philip’s sure he’d bug him about them all the time they were playing golf later on today. He always had to let him win, especially on that prized par 3 hole on the back 9 — the origin of his nickname. He learned that the hard way.

The kid relented. “Oh all right,” she said, putting down the book and heading for the door. “I’ll go find my *new friend* Anorexia.”

Good kid, Philip Strevor thinks again. But the crazies are now sitting at a table in the opposite corner of the building. How’d *that* happen? What’s going on?”

Almost the instant the doors shut behind his kid, more knocks, larger but softer. “Dearest?”

Oh God, Philip thinks. My mother. What does *she* want?

—–

“What’s this trash you’re reading, Philip? ‘Celestial Handbook’? I bet it’s a celestial handbook.”

“That *trash* is what you gave your granddaughter 2 Christmas’ back. The one she still can’t put down even now.”

“Oh.” She scrutinized the cover more closely, then drew back. “Well it’s good for her to read. Keeps her out of the alleys. Where is she anyway? Wanisa said it’s your turn to keep her.” Philip feels the noose tightening around his neck. Might as well say “cut here”. Oh wait… it does.

“Mom, I’m *so* busy. Can we talk later?”

“Not until you tell me where Poodles is.” Poodles is (June’s) pet name for her granddaughter.”

“Okay, okay, just to get you off my back. Yes, she’s in the alleyway, but she’s supervised. Her new friend who just happens to be *13* is back there with her.”

“Have you checked? Did you follow her out to make sure her friend met up with her?”

“You should have run smack into Bug before you came in.” Bug was Philip Strevor’s pet name for his daughter. He then thought of the spooky trio that switched corners of the building. “*Did* you run into her?”

His mother disappeared. His wife took her place.

“Philip we need to talk. It’s about Casey One Hole. Yankton.”

—–

He wakes up in his ersatz observatory. “Yankton?”

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stood up

Karoz thinks while waiting: *I* need a mask.

20 minutes later, he’d switched over to the booths, trying again to figure out what these crazy typing style animations mean. Only one animation per booth, only one *seat* per booth. Bad designing, he thinks. A place just kind of thrown together. Baker Bloch could do much better here. Kidd Tower is a seed.

So involved was he with his animation that Karoz didn’t notice Old Grey slipping in and sitting at the front counter. “Bucket of blood,” she requests to the lone attendant. “And put some nails in it.” Karoz recognizes the voice.

She never received her drink. This wasn’t a bar. But she and Karoz caught up. They sat at the counter together.

“Baker Blinker is in Collagesity helping Baker Bloch with some apartment rentals,” he said to the old woman in disguise.

“How’s your love life,” Old Grey asked straighforwardly.

“We manage.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m suppose to meet someone, Old Grey. Uncle Babyface. Why are *you* here?”

“I live here,” she said. “In this sim. Kidd Tower… I’m The Kidd. Billie. Here, stand back and I’ll show you. The dress could poof out in the transformation and put someone’s eye out.”

“Okay.” He hops off the chair and takes a couple of steps away from the counter accordingly, not understanding that Old Grey was joking.

“I just thought of the hair,” she said after changing. Grey to black. Young Black, hehe.”

“It’s quite appealing,” encouraged Karoz Blogger.

“If you were a boy of 10, would you ask me out for ice cream?”

“Sure.”

“You were never 10,” she joked again. “You were born old. Old and green. Old Green.”

“Just because I never had a mother doesn’t mean I wasn’t born.”

“Immaculate,” whispered The Kidd. She turned toward Karoz and looked at him squarely. “Jesus. You’re Jesus.”

But Karoz didn’t know that name and told her so.

The Kidd tested him further. “Do you know Superman? Aquaman?”

“Of course,” replied Karoz.

“Green Lantern?”

Karoz whirled around and looked at the poster behind him. “Obviously,” he said while staring at the superhero’s mask again.

“Then you are like the Green Lantern,” cooed The Kidd. She clapped her hands rapidly together and squealed in excitement. “And with a ring!”

Karoz didn’t get a mask that day but he got something else even better — from The Kidd. She just pulled it out of a secret pocket on her babydoll dress. The ring wasn’t exactly legit Green Lantern style but he thought it quite cool anyway and wore it home to Chilbo. Later that night, the town’s giant central tree caught on fire and burned to the ground. It would take weeks to grow another one.

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Continuation

In a dream, Old Grey was hobbling up Alpine Way just beyond the western border of Meribel, heading into the oh so white mountains again. “If I can just reach that bench over there I can rest again,” she says to herself. But it was a struggle, like walking uphill at a 60 degree angle.

Hummie the Hummingbird lept off her shoulder again, trying to encourage. “You can do it you can do it you can do it,” the bird twittered at a rapid fire pace in front of her…

snapshot8840_007

…then sped to the bench to wait. Faintly, Old Grey could still hear it trilling the same encouragement at intervals.

—–

“Halfway there maybe,” she said, panting.

snapshot8840_002

—–

“Jesus Christ.” Her whole body was sweating. “And (wheeze) this is still basically level ground.”

snapshot8840_003

—–

Another round of encouragement from Hummie. “You can do it you can do it you can do it.”

snapshot8840_004

—–

Old Grey died from heart failure just in front of the bench. Behind it, Pop-up Rock had come out of his hole to see what all the commotion was all about. “She couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it she couldn’t do it,” Hummie explained.

snapshot8840_008

snapshot8840_014

—–

Old Mabel woke up.

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Changes

snapshot8825_005b

Wheeler-as-Old Grey was markedly trailing Snowmanster by the time they reached the Cloudmont plateau and its host of stubby, snow laden trees. She felt her complex exterior breaking down. Soon she would not have the energy to even keep up the ancient lady appearance. Snowmanster had changed as well, but not for lack of energy. He was now a man.

Toy avatar Woody Woodmanson watched the two, brisk and brisker, pass by from behind a nearby tree. Snowmanster pretended not to see him; Old Grey *didn’t* see him. Straight ahead was what the white being declared the Purden Castle, where they could make camp for the coming, cold night and catch up with more stories of magical realms. He figured Woody would be joining them at some point, once his shyness receded.

Although he wouldn’t dare admit it, Snowmanster was having a fantastic time on this trip, more fun that he could remember. His sex had changed, which hadn’t happened in quite a while. He *liked* Old Grey. Similar to Karoz before him, he found she had a way to win you over once you get past that sandpaper exterior. She was just powerful and confused at the same time; didn’t really know how to apply all the energy she had — obviously. He thought he could help her. Snowmanster had a new mission, *despite* the fact that Wheeler (as Jerome T. Newton) tried to burn him alive less than two months back. His escape was always in the cards and that’s the important thing to keep in mind, he thought to himself. Was he still playing with fire?

Seeing the castle forming ahead, he then stopped and waited for Old Grey to catch up. She had already reverted back to her core self. Disappointed, Snowmanster saw that the structure had fallen into disrepair. He was hoping to show Wheeler something more substantial.

snapshot8825_008b

At the campfire later that night, Woody passed around a snapshot showing how it was.

purden_castle

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